Maureen's Diary
by Saran VD
Summary: PreRENT through postRENT. Maureen's diary. Need I say more? Rating for language.
1. December 25, 1988 9 PM, EST

December 25, 1988. 9 PM, EST

Dear (fill in the blank),

I can't believe this shit. Mom sent me a _diary_ for Christmas! I mean, damn, how young does she think I am?

And look at me, the hypocrite, writing in this thing.

So, yeah, I'm Maureen. Maureen Johnson. I can't believe I just told a _book_ my name. It's an inanimate object. It can't say hi or anything… can it?

So, Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank, I'm just going to hide you in my underwear drawer and never speak of you again.

**Maureen Johnson**


	2. March 13, 1989 1:13 PM, EST

March 13, 1989. 1:13 PM, EST

Dear (fill in the blank),

I can't stand this. I can't. I had to pull you out again, Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank. I just found April. Dead.

Although that probably means nothing to you, right, Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank? Here's the cast list of my life:

Roger Davis: My roommate. Heroin junkie. Mark's best friend (more on Mark later). He's about 22 years old. Wanna-be rock star. Simply gorgeous. (Too bad he isn't single…) Beautiful, long, dirty-blonde hair, deep blue eyes, he is H-O-T-_T_, Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank.

April Erickson: Roger's girlfriend. Or, at least, she was. Lived with us. I found her, today, in the bathroom, lying in a pool of blood. Heroin junkie. Inspiring interior designer until her… suicide… Had awesome (somewhat bushy) red hair and sparkly green eyes. Short.

Mark Cohen: My pookie. Lives with us. About Roger's (and my) age. Nerdy looking. Glasses. Sweet, though. Charming. I love him. Wants to be a film-maker.

Tom Collins: Another roommate. Another person like me! Anarchist. Tall. _Very_ tall. Dark skin. Always wearing a beanie. HIV+. Gay.

Benny Coffin III: I really don't know much about Benny. He keeps to himself. Doesn't really get along with any of us. Another roommate. Darkish skin (looks like coffee).

So… now that you know who everyone is, Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank, I can talk about current events.

April. OH. MY. GOD. Roger's out at a gig, and Marky (muah!) and I were alone with April. (Lord knows where Benny and Collins were). So, Pookie and I went out for coffee for five minutes. We left April alone, and when we got back, I went into the bathroom to wash my hands and found her in the bathtub with Roger's razor in her limp hand. Dear God, I'm scared. April was so full of life. So happy. She and I were best friends in high school, and now she's dead.

I can't write anymore, Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank. My hand is shaking too much. More later.

**Maureen Johnson**


	3. March 14, 1989 12:20 AM, EST

March 14, 1989. 12:20 AM, EST

Dear (fill in the blank),

I can't sleep. April's haunting me. Every time I shut my eyes, I can picture her in the bathtub… oh, it's horrible. April and I have always been best friends. Always. I can't stand it. She's gone.

Update: She left a note on the counter. I didn't notice it until about an hour ago. I stuck it in the diary. It's horrible. Poor Roger. I… I… I WON'T CRY! Ms. Fill-in-the-Blank, you have got to get me out of this mess. You have to help me work through it.

It's like Mom knew I would need something to confide in.

Later

**Maureen Johnson**


	4. April's Note

_Roger, baby:_

_We have AIDS. I can't deal. Love you forever. Kisses to Mo and Mark, too. I'll be watching._

_Love,_

_April_


	5. March 15, 1989 7 PM, EST

March 15, 1989. 7 PM, EST

Dear (fill in the blank),

April's funeral is tomorrow. I'm supposed to give a speech. But how am I supposed to put her into words? She can't be given justice with a short speech. The only way would be to write a novel about her. And that _still_ wouldn't do it justice!

I'm in a crunch. For the first time, I don't know what to say.

Love always,

**Maureen Johnson**


	6. March 23, 1989 5:04 PM, EST

March 23, 1989, 5:04 PM, EST

Dear Ms Fill-in-the-Blank,

April's funeral was a week ago. I was too depressed to write sooner (and I've been spending all my time with Mark. Don't worry, nothing happened!). I think it went ok, but everyone was just so damned _quiet_. Especially Roger. But that's reasonable.

Oh, and guess what I found out? Remember how April was a junkie? (I told you, don't pretend you don't get it!) Collins apparently caught Roger getting ready to shoot up. The thought gives me chills. Roger just doesn't seem the type. But, oh well. We are _determined_ to get him off of it, especially since the note. "_We've got AIDS…_"

Oh, I can't stand it. First we lose April, we'll lose Collins and Roger before we know it, and who knows what'll happen to the rest of us in the meantime…

More later,

**Maureen**


	7. April 1, 1989, 10:01 PM, EST

April 1, 1989, 10:01 PM, EST

Dear Ms. Fill-In-The-Blank,

Sorry I haven't written in so long. Everything's just been so _crazy_ around here lately, what with getting Roger into rehab, and all of us trying to get over April. I don't think I've eaten anything in the past week.

So, anyway, Roger's in rehab now. It doesn't seem to be working well, butI haven't seen him since he started. Mark has, and he says that Rog is miserable. It must suck to try and get off of such addicting shit.

I've been alone in the loft for the better part of the last couple weeks. I think I might go to the park tomorrow. It'll give me something to do.

I promise to write sooner next time,

**Maureen**


	8. April 14, 1989, 3 PM, EST

April 14, 1989, 3 PM, EST

Dear Miss Fill-In-The-Blank,

Time is passing so slowly lately. Mark has seemed more concerned about Roger then he is about me. I'm starting to wonder who his girlfriend is: Roger or me?

Wait, scratch that. Roger's not a girl. But you know what I mean!

Anyway, so I've been going to the park lately. Just walking around, thinking about… things. And this woman walked up to me. I guess I must've looked really miserable or something, 'cause she was like, "Are you alright?" And, I don't know why, but I just sorta spilled everything out about April and Roger and Mark ignoring me and Benny's relationship with Alison…

Yeah, did I mention that Benny's gonna propose to Alison?

Do you even know who Alison _is_?

Whatever. (You're only a book anyway). Point is, Benny's known this girl for maybe six months, and he wants to marry her. Weird.

Back on track. So, this woman was all, "I'm sorry." By this time, I was sitting on a bench, just because I was lazy. She sat next to me.

"I'm Joanne," she said kindly.

"Maureen," I sniffled.

So we sat there and talked. It was amazing how easy she was to talk to, almost as easy as talking to Collins or Mark.

Well, it hasn't been easy to talk to Mark for the last few days, but I already said that.

Anyway, the only reason we stopped talking is because I was afraid the others would worry about where I was. I'm going to meet her again tomorrow.

Until then…

**Maureen**


	9. April 16th, 1989, 5 PM, EST

April 16th, 1989, 5 PM, EST

Dear Miss Fill-In-The-Blank,

Oh. My. God. You will _never_ guess who I ran into yesterday!

So, I was leaving the loft and heading out to meet up with Joanne, and I heard these scuffling noises in the alley. Since I'm nosy like that, I decided to see what was going on. Before I could figure it out, these two people were heading out onto Avenue B. They were jabbering at each other in Spanish. And then, one of them, a girl who looked to be about 17, walked up to me and threw her arms around my waist. "Maureen!"

Her head went up to my chin. "Erm, yeah. Hi?"

"You don't recognize me?" The petite Latina pulled away. Her bottom lip was quivering.

"Should I?"

"We used to be neighbors! Remember?"

I blinked at her. "What?"

"You let me go to Sarah's party with you!"

Hold on! I _do_ know this girl! Although I don't think that she has her story quite right…

* * *

You see, what happened was that I was outside my front door, waiting for April to show up and give me a ride to our friend Sarah's house for a party. I was standing there, huffing and puffing and complaining out loud when my next-door neighbors decided to start yelling at each other (again). Without any warning at all, the front door opened and their thirteen-year-old daughter was flung out the front door (keep in mind that it was December, and the girl wasn't wearing a coat). They slammed the door shut, and the girl was banging on the door, screaming to be let in. And I was in a _very_ bad mood, so I yelled at her to shut up. Instead, she ran over to me and started bitching about how much her family life sucked. I just nodded through clenched teeth until April finally showed up. Now it was my turn to bitch about how much my own life sucked as I climbed into the car. We were about to drive off when stupid April decided to play guardian angel.

"Hey, isn't that your neighbor?"

"Yeah, and she's also a certified pain in the ass. Drive."

She didn't budge. "Why's she outside without a coat?"

"Her parents are pissed at her."

"Why?"

"Does it _look_ like I know?"

"Well, we can't leave her standing out there in the snow."

"Sure we can. You step on the gas and get us to the party. Unless you want to be late, of course."

She _still_ refused to budge. "I'd feel guilty."

"_So_ not the time, April. We do not want to be late for the _Schunard Family Christmas Party_."

"Well, then, she'll just have to come with us."

"WHAT?!"

* * *

And that's how it happened. It was _not_ my idea. And after all that time, I never found out my neighbor's name.

"Erm, yeah, I remember you."

She grinned. "Oh, and you know my friend Angel, right?"

I looked at the person who was with her. This person was a drag queen. A _drag queen_ with a pickle tub under her (his?) arm and drumsticks in one hand.

"No, I can't say I do," I admitted.

"Yes you do! Angel Dumott Schunard?"

"Angel… wait…"

The Latina smirked.

"But, but Sarah only had one brother… Angelo?!"

Angel smiled and gave me a perky wave.

"Kill me," I muttered. "Kill me now."

"Come on, Mimi, Chica, we have to get going. Life Support starts in fifteen minutes." Angel grabbed the Latina by the arm.

Ok, so her name is Mimi. I learned something today.

"See you, Maureen," Mimi said with a wave.

"Bye," was my reply, and as soon as they were gone, I ran over to the park. Unfortunately, Joanne wasn't there.

Damn.

She wasn't there today, either. I hope she's all right…

ARGH! Look at me! I've only talked to her once and I'm already worrying!

Ah, well. Maybe I'll be sane for you tomorrow, Miss Fill-In-The-Blank.

**Maureen**


	10. April 17th, 1989, 8:05 PM, EST

April 17th, 1989, 8:05 PM, EST

Dear Miss Fill-In-The-Blank,

I met up with Joanne again today, and (of course) asked her (quite rudely) where she's been for the past two days. She said that she and her girlfriend have been fighting a lot recently, and she's afraid she'll get dumped.

Wait, _rewind_. Girlfriend?!?!?!?!

Not that it's a _problem_ or anything. It's just a bit of a… shock. I didn't expect her to be… well, never mind. Point is, Joanne has a girlfriend. And she apparently loves said girlfriend. And said girlfriend might break up with poor Jo.

Is it all right to be angry? Like, spit-and-fire, killing rampage angry? Any woman would be _lucky_ to have Joanne. But I didn't mention this to her. I kept a calm face.

"Why have you been fighting?"

"Well, she's accusing me of not being committed to our relationship, because I keep meeting up with you."

"And what's wrong with talking to me?"

"Well, you're another hot young woman, and she thinks I like you the same as I like her."

"What's her name?"

"Sarah. Sarah Schunard."

Cue me fainting. "Angel's sister?"

"Oh, you know Angel?" asked Joanne with a chuckle. "Yeah, she's not too happy with him right now. None of her family is."

"Why, because he- I mean she-"

"Ah, see, you've put your finger on the problem."

My confusion must've shown on my face.

"'He- I mean she-'" she said. "They don't like that she's… well, let's say 'switched genders'."

"He can be gay, though."

"Yeah. No problem. But, well…"

I checked my watch. "Listen, Jo…"

"Jo?!" laughed Joanne. "No one has ever called me Jo! I like it."

I grinned broadly. "I gotta go, Mark's waiting."

She looked a little upset.

"Sorry!" I said, meaning it. "Tomorrow, same time, same place?"

"Of course."

So, I just got home from my date with Mark, and all he could talk about was Roger. Roger's withdrawals, Roger having AIDS and being about to die, Roger and his constant angsting. I was ready to kill him. I would've rather gone on a date with Joanne.

Is there something wrong with that?

More tomorrow,

**Maureen **


	11. April 21st, 1989, 12:01 AM, EST

April 21st, 1989, 12:01 AM, EST

Dear Miss Fill-In-The-Blank,

Joanne kissed me.

She _kissed_ me.

Oh my god, I kissed a woman.

And the weird thing? I _liked_ it.

Bury me now. Mom is going to kill me. As if it wasn't bad enough that I never followed her rules about _boys_. What's she going to say about this?

Not that Joanne and I are together or anything. She and Sarah are still having troubles with their relationship. Now it's _Joanne_ that wants to dump _Sarah_.

And, God, do I want Joanne. I've never felt like this with _anyone_, including Mark.

Oh fuck. _Mark_. What is going to happen to _Mark_? I don't want to mess things up with him; he's a great guy. But right now, he's not what I need. I'm still trying to get over April's death, and the fact that Roger's is fast approaching. He hasn't helped me through it at _all_. I need to talk to him about that, and stop having it sit in the back of my head all the time. Meanwhile, I'll just try to forget the feeling of Joanne's lips.

That sounds _much_ easier than it is.

Until later,

Maureen 


	12. April 22nd, 1989

April 22nd, 1989, 3:40 AM, EST

Dear Miss Fill-In-The-Blank

I think Mark is mad at me. I told him that he was not making me very happy with the way he's acting.

Actually… I told him that he's pissing me off. That was probably not smart. And that's probably why he sent me out to sleep on the couch. But I haven't fallen asleep yet. I feel too guilty.

But I'm also very, very tired. I'll fill you in entirely once I finally get some sleep.

XOXO

**Maureen**

* * *

2:56 PM, EST 

Dear Miss Fill-In-the-Blank,

So, here's how it happened. I met Mark at the Life, like I do every evening, for dinner.

"Mark," I said to him. "We need to talk."

"Shoot," he said as we sat down. He rested his head on his hands and was looking at me in this adorable, sappy way. Why does he have to be so damn _cute_?

"Can you, erm, start talking _to_ me, and not _at_ me?"

"Elaborate." Big words. Mark knows I can't resist big words, partially because I'm no good with them.

"Look, I respect that Roger is going through a though time now. But he's not the only one." My gaze left his face and went to my glass of water. "This whole April is dead and Roger has AIDS thing hasn't been easy on me, either." He didn't say anything, so I kept talking. "And you don't seem to care. You're always just talking about Roger, and telling me what's going on with him. You don't seem to care about what's going on with _me_."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"I haven't had anyone to talk to, Mark. You haven't been there. The only reason I haven't followed in April's footsteps is because I met someone."

Mark's eyes widened. "Who? Who is he? Have you been cheating on me?"

"No, Mark! No, she's just a friend, I promise."

"_She_? Are you really that desperate?"

"No, no! Mark, I wouldn't do that to you, I promise!" I stood and ran over to kneel by his chair. "I promise!" I repeated, praying that I wouldn't end up breaking it. "Kiss, Pookie!"

Mark frowned down at me. "I don't believe you."

"Why not, Mark? Does this look like the face of a girl who would lie to you?" I asked him, pouting.

"I can't be sure anymore." Without ordering anything, he stood up and walked out. I followed him.

"Mark, Mark, listen to me. You have to believe me. What's a relationship without a little trust?"

"Just give me the night to mull things over," he said without making eye contact.

"Whatever you need. Take as long as you want. Just not _too_ long."

And I ended up sleeping on the couch and learning an important lesson: the words, "I met someone" usually imply a relationship.

XOXO

**Maureen**

* * *

8:53 PM, EST 

Dear Miss Fill-In-The-Blank,

I think Mark might believe me now. I've been sitting here, on the couch, all day. I think that gives me some brownie points.

At about seven, he ended up sitting next to me. "Did you mean what you said last night?"

"Which part?"

"When you said you don't think I care."

I looked at him. "Yes, Mark. I did. That's what it feels like."

He took my hand in his. "Sorry, Mo."

I smiled at him. "That's okay."

"So," he asked after a short pause, "how have you been?"

"Not so good."

"Me neither." Another pause. "I miss April."

"Me, too. Mark, she's been there for my whole life! I just feel like…"

He gently squeezed my hand. "I know," he whispered.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he ran his fingers through my curls. "Mark?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"For what? I haven't done anything yet."

"For caring."

Mark stopped petting me, and I looked at him. He gave me a lingering kiss before speaking. "Don't mention it. You were right." He sighed, and I leaned my head on his shoulder again. "I just worry about Roger. He hasn't left the house since her funeral…"

"He just needs time. And support. We can _all_ help with that."

Mark nodded and stood up. My fingers still intertwined with his, he helped me to my feet. "Shall we go to dinner?"

"Yes, we shall," I giggled.

We just got back from dinner. Mark can be just _too_ adorable, Miss Fill-In-the-Blank!

XOXO

**Maureen**

* * *

11:59 PM, EST 

Joanne who???


End file.
